


A second-hand emotion

by Mossgreen



Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [40]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Master/Slave, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 00:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: Master is not in a good mood. Ven is determined to do something about it – if only things weren't conspiring against him!Please note!! This has been edited to better fit with the story unfolding in Imperial_Dragon's Imperial Earth series (please see the notes for links)! The basic story remains, but some of the background details have changed, and there's a new coda leading up to the next part of Imperial Earth. For those of you who haven't read that series: Go and read it! I'd love it if everyone producing anything in this universe got as much love and kudos as I do!





	A second-hand emotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imperial_Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imperial_Dragon/gifts).



> Ugh. I've never found it so hard to title one of these!! 
> 
> Apologies to Imperial_Dragon; I did pinch some of the stuff you sent me; you phrased things so well I couldn't let it go unused! (I'm sure it won't take a rocket scientist to figure out the particular bit I mean.)
> 
> And for the rest of you – if you've not read the other things in this universe, check out Imperial_Dragon and Vitzy – their work is included in the 2770 ab urbe condita collection. You won't be disappointed!
> 
> This falls sequentially between Chapter Four of [An Afternoon of Work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218464) and Chapter One of [Vesperna at the Atrium Vestae](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555291) in Imperial_Dragon's Imperial Earth series.
> 
> I've left the original version of this up for historical reasons [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688773), but have removed it from the 2770 a.u.c. series for continuity reasons. I apologise to everyone who kudos'ed or commented on the original entry; I solemnly promise I don't intend to go back and edit _everything_ just to make it flow better! 
> 
> This is _substantially_ different from the original from about half-way through, though there are some minor changes throughout the earlier portion as well. Please subscribe to Imperial_Dragon to read the rest of this particular storyline as she posts it!

It had been one of _those_ days for everyone, as far as Ven could tell. Even with all the notes and listening in to whatever was being discussed, Ven had not really been able to help his master, who was looking more and more annoyed as the day wore on, which absolutely could not be good news for Ven later on. As the day wore on without any real improvement, Ven decided to take matters into his own hands – subtly, of course. There would be nothing worse than his master realising he was being manipulated, even if it was for his own good. He might not appreciate the gesture, but Ven could try, at least. And if it didn't work, he was likely to get a paddling either way; he would at least like to attempt to deflect it by offering an alternative.

Even as he knelt on his cushion beside his master's chair, tenseness and annoyance radiating from his master in waves that were practically neon-coloured to any slave with half an ounce of self-preservation, he quietly opened a second app on his tablet, one that his master had recently installed for him. He quietly wrote _On our way home. Please have a basin and a jug of hot water ready in Master's room for when we get in_ , the movements of the stylus looking as though he were still taking notes. He did not send the message just yet; he would not do that until they were actually leaving, there were too many potential delays between packing up and actually heading home.

Eventually, the meeting was over and everyone filed out, except Ven's master, who leaned back in his chair, irritation sparking off him. Ven closed his tablet, rose quietly to his feet and began gathering his master's things together, glancing at his master as he did so, prepared for the order to stop, or to strip, or whatever.

"You're a good boy, Ven," his master said, causing Ven to stop and look at him again. He still had his eyes closed, and still had that crease between his brows that never boded well for Ven.

"Thank you, Master," he said, cautious, intrigued by his master's use of _puer_ rather than the far more usual (and distinctly more sexual) form _pusio_. There was a tautness about the set of his master's shoulders that Ven did not like the look of – for one thing, he would end up as stiff as a board if he did not relax, for another, if he kept holding himself like that, he would stay irritated (or angry or whatever his current mix of emotions actually was) and Ven would probably end up taking a good flogging or spanking, just because he was there and his master could take his irritation out on his slave where he couldn't take it out on the actual citizen (group of citizens) who'd led to this mood in the first place.

"Would my master like a drink?" he enquired, still cautious, taking refuge in the formal third person form of speech he rarely ever employed, except when the more direct form was likely to add to his master's out-of-sorts state of being.

"No," Master said shortly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I will not be going to the baths this afternoon, either. You may inform Cnaeus Tanicius Gracchus that I shall have to reschedule our meeting for next week."

"Yes, Master," Ven said, opening his tablet again and altering his own message slightly before composing a new one to the citizen in question.

He put his master's laptop, diary and notepad in his secretary's satchel, keeping his own tablet out for a moment; it would take only a second to send his message to Willow and he could then stow his tablet while walking.

He stepped back, eyes lowered, as Master heaved himself to his feet with a sigh. 

"Very well, let's go home."

"Yes, Master."

He quickly pressed 'send' on his message and slipped his tablet into the satchel alongside his master's things, before opening the door for him and following him out.

The pretty receptionist caught his eye as they crossed Phallusy's huge designed-to-impress atrium, and gave him a sympathetic look. Ven had learned, over a period of several weeks, that her name was Alissa Verita, that she was a _prōlētāria_ – one of the lowest class of citizen – having completed a five-year judicial sentence for... something she'd done as a stupid seventeen-year-old – and that, rather than reverting to her birth legal name, she had decided to adopt one of her former master's names as any _verna_ would because she wanted to make a clean break from the very silly teen she had been.

Ven was pretty sure that his own master was her patron's patron although he couldn't prove it without knowing her patron's full name, and she seemed disinclined to tell him that, which he could understand.

Ven took his place three paces behind his master's right shoulder as they exited Phallusy to the portico outside, which was jammed (as usual). The walk home through the Forum was much as ever – there were the usual tourist groups gawping at the buildings, despite the grey day. The Virilis Romanum woman's slaves did not look too happy, which Ven could appreciate; it was grey and damp although the drizzle had petered out. 

Ven was still chilled when they reached home, though, and from the look of things, the cold walk hadn't improved his master's temper either. Why they had not taken a cycleshaw home, he could not say, although Master generally preferred walking between home and the office, even on a dull grey day like today.

The house was warm and welcoming. Even without removing his sandals (his master's slaves were usually barefoot indoors), Ven could feel the warmth of the underfloor heating. 

"Might it please my master to make use of the house _balnea_?" he said, stepping forward to catch the cold damp _pallium_ his master was stripping off, knowing it would otherwise land on the floor.

"Are you saying I'm dirty or I smell bad?" his master enquired over his shoulder, his tone hard, as he led the way to the _tablinum_. Ven passed the _pallium_ to Moss, who had stepped forward silently to relieve him of it.

Master stopped by the desk and turned to face Ven, who lifted his eyes to meet his master's. They were chilly, although with a look in them that somehow emboldened Ven to say, "No, Master. You look cold, it would be a pleasant way to warm up."

He dropped his gaze again, finding the patch on the mosaic that had been repaired (the red tiles used didn't quite match the red elsewhere in the border), and was startled by a brief laugh from his master.

"You crafty thing. Very well; I suppose work will keep for a bit."

Ven set his satchel down on the desk and followed his master across the atrium to the bath-house, catching Junio's eye on the way.

"Could you put a towel in the _frigidarium_ and then find Master's indoor sandals and a fresh tunic? I think the blue one, in heavy linen – it's too cold for a summer one."

The request took a moment to pass, and then Ven could turn his attention back to his master, placing his belt and tunic in a cubbyhole before kneeling to remove his sandals, trousers and underwear. Removing his own clothing and sandals took only a minute and he wrapped a towel around his own waist, found a pair of bath-house slippers each and took an oil-bottle and strigil, following his master into the warm _tepidarium_ , with the fountain splashing gently in the corner.

The basin and jug of water had been placed beside Master's preferred bench, with a folded towel. Master sat down with a sigh, which didn't sound like annoyance but more a sound of relaxation, of pleasure. Ven knelt, poured the water into the bowl and slid it into place in front of him, lifting his master's feet into the water.

His master's mood seemed particularly brittle today and Ven had no intention of taking any sort of whipping for it if he could avoid it. Taking a whipping because his master wanted to give him one and enjoyed it was one thing, taking a whipping because it might improve his master's temper to take it out on someone else was quite another – Ven had been subject to enough of those in his life that he didn't want to take any more if he could help it. Though Master Drusus didn't really seem to be that sort of master, but you could never really be sure, when you were a slave.

The water was warm, almost hot, on Ven's own chilled hands, and he took the time to soap and wash his master's feet, warming his own hands as he did. Some people found this sort of thing sexually exciting, he knew, although he did not really understand that aspect of it himself. 

"Ven."

He looked up, instantly alert. "Yes, Master?"

"Call one of the slaves in from the atrium."

Ven stood, touched the relevant button on the intercom panel, and returned to what he was doing, almost at the same moment as Moss appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Master?"

"Fetch me the latest issue of _Vincula_."

Ven looked up, caught Moss' eye, and mouthed, "Side-table, Master's couch, atrium."

Moss nodded once. "Yes, Master."

He was back only moments later, with the magazine in his hand. It was a thick, glossy thing, with its distinctive black-and-white cover photograph – far higher quality than Ven's preferred reading material, and with a cover price to match.

It seemed Master was beginning to relax as he opened the magazine, ignoring Ven's continued ministrations. Not that Ven particularly minded; there were times it was better not to have his master's attention, after all.

He dried his master's feet off, setting the basin aside and reaching for the oil-flask, tipping a little oil into his hands to begin to give him a foot-rub. There was another satisfied sigh above him and he hid a smile, continuing to massage, moving slowly up to Master's calves, which were always tight.

"Might it please my master to lie down?" he asked after another few minutes. The magazine was lowered and his master looked down at him. Ven caught his lip between his teeth momentarily before Master nodded and repositioned himself to lie on the bench on his stomach. Ven stood, and began to massage his owner's shoulders, which were tight as anything. 

There was a groan as Ven worked, easing tight muscles and working out knots and kinks. He would have to try to find a few minutes some time and ask Moss to do his own shoulders, he thought, though when he would have the chance was anyone's guess.

Master looked and sounded much more relaxed when he finally allowed Ven to follow him to the _caldarium_. There wasn't really much for Ven to do here; normally Master would share the room with friends (most days he went to one of the public baths anyway, to meet friends or business acquaintances), but the silence was kind of soothing, especially with the splashing of the fountain in the _tepidarium_.

Ven hadn't been given a specific task to do, so he just stood by the wall, hands clasped around the oil-bottle and strigil, and tried to practise one of the mental exercises in the most recent issue of _Ave! Serve_ while his master read his own magazine. His thoughts kept wandering, though and eventually he gave up and just thought. His master no longer seemed tense or irritated by everything and nothing, which had been Ven's goal. The crease between his brows had smoothed out, and he looked a lot more relaxed than he had even that morning.

Whatever had caused the irritation had started that morning, before they'd even left the house. The meeting (with several bickering citizens who hadn't listened to anyone else's points of view) hadn't helped, but the problem had really started that morning. There hadn't been any apparent reason for it, as far as Ven could tell; everything had seemed perfectly normal to him – but he was only a slave, what the Hades did _he_ know? Anyway, his master seemed far less irritated now, so there was less for Ven to worry about.

He went back to his mental game now that he had resolved the distraction.

Eventually, Master closed his magazine. He didn't need to snap his fingers to get Ven's attention (which didn't stop him doing so, of course), he had it the second he shifted his position. Oiling and scraping his master was easy enough, of course, and once that was done he followed his master through to the _frigidarium_ , trying not to shiver after the heat of the _caldarium_. Master dropped his towel and slipped into the pool, hissing between his teeth at the cold water as Ven picked the towel up and folded it, setting it aside before resuming his position by the wall.

Master ignored him, taking the time for another brief swim, which allowed Ven to admire his trim figure without worrying about drawing unwanted attention. His master was good-looking enough, Ven supposed, though he wasn't sure whether that made it easier or harder to deal with being his _concubīnus_.

Being attracted to your master couldn't hurt, really, he thought, although he really wasn't sure that he would label his own admiration of his master's form 'attraction'. Even 'admiration' was too strong a word, really, although there was certainly some of that involved. You could admire someone physically without being attracted to them, though, surely? And objectively speaking, there was no harm in thinking your master was good-looking. Objectively speaking.

He reached for the towel as his master emerged from the water, busying himself with drying him off, keeping his eyes lowered and his face blank.

They passed through to the changing room again. Ven dropped the towel into the laundry hamper, and reached for the clean tunic Junio had brought in, settling it over Master's head, passing his belt to him and kneeling to lace his indoor sandals. There was a clean tunic in the cubbyhole where he had left his own damp clothing earlier and he dressed himself, grateful for the small gesture.

"Pet, you may go and have a shower. I will be in my study," Master said, as they emerged into the atrium again. Ven flashed a quick hand-signal, the open palm up indicating Gratitude, to Junio as he caught his fellow slave's eye, even as he bent his head in acknowledgement of his master's direction.

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

He headed to the showers, turning the temperature up high and paused under the spray, just... being. He couldn't waste time, though, and washed quickly but thoroughly before drying himself off and heading back to the _tablinum_ , where Master was sitting at his desk poking at his laptop. The TV was on, apparently for the news. The reporter was standing outside the Curia, with the senators leaving the building behind her all wearing the distinctive purple-edged togas.

_"The Serene Emperor's decision today will effectively begin closing the gap between how the courts deal with the rich and privileged members of society and those who have come to such a pass for whatever reason..."_

He was a little astonished to be told to grab something to read, if he wanted to, and found himself passing the next hour or so sitting on the floor beside his master's chair, the television on and his master playing with his hair (which always went fluffy when it dried, unless he used a bit of product in it, but he almost never did that).

This was nice, he thought vaguely, turning the page. Sweet domesticity. Too nice. Too easy to get used to.

He stared down at the page in front of him. An interview with someone on acclimatising after being sentenced to slavery by the court. That was all right, though he couldn't quite hide his amusement at the irony (was that even the right word) of the timing, turning to that page as the reporter was saying something about today's Senate meeting.

Not that that had a damn thing to do with Ven, of course.

Ven looked up as Master patted his head. "Run and fetch me a cup of coffee, pet."

He swallowed the protest, although instinct was already propelling him to his feet. Moss and Junio were both present in the atrium, waiting for something to do and he was comfortable where he was. But slaves did not protest the orders their masters gave them, they merely obeyed with no more said than, "Yes, Master."

Things slipped from the normal almost as soon as Ven reached the swing door to the slave quarters, and he paused to see what it was all about. Petrus came out to answer the door; the bell was only audible in the doorkeeper's tiny room. The person on the other side of the door turned out to be a female slave bearing a folded and sealed envelope. Petrus admitted her, but paused in the atrium's entryway, looking disapproving. Slave or not, females did not roam about the city on their own, knocking at strangers' front doors, as far as he was concerned.

Ven stood at the entrance to the slave quarters enthralled by the sight of an unaccompanied female slave in the _domus_. She wore an enveloping _paenula_ which concealed her body but Ven found his imagination fully able to compensate for the lack of visuals.

Moss, quick on the uptake and the nearest to the tablinum's screened entrance, padded over to inform the master of the caller.

Ven shook himself out of his momentary daze and went into the slaves' hallway, imagination running rampant with the idea and memory of a woman. A soft, squishy woman with perfect handfuls of soft, squishy breasts and a hot, wet – He was still wearing his harness so maybe he’d better stop thinking about soft, and hot.

Not easy!

Ven was still waiting for the carafe of coffee when Moss burst in. "Ven! Master wants you. And Willow – where’s Willow?"

Willow had been in the break room, doing... something, but came out immediately at the summons. Neither he nor Ven were wearing their livery as Willow was not on service duty and Ven was not going to be in public for the rest of the day; instead they wore one of their old plain bleached tunics, now a little stained and patched. But it was better to be prompt than tidy so Willow led the way to the study, leaving Moss to bring the coffee when it was ready.

There they found Master pacing while reading the note brought by the slave girl. She turned out to be a young girl rather than the voluptuous woman of Ven’s imagination. Regardless, she knelt very straight, with the dignity of a woman much older than her years.

Willow and Ven couldn't even kneel before Master gestured at them. "Here they are," he said to the girl, "and you can issue your totally unnecessary invitation."

"My mistress has always impressed on me the need for politeness to all," the girl said calmly, her eyes submissively lowered and apparently unaware that you just didn’t rebuke _Drusus Varius Metellus_. Especially if you happened to be a slave!

"Oh, _has_ she?" Master muttered, causing Ven to wince inwardly. "Get on with it."

The girl rose gracefully to her feet and turned to the two slaves. "My mistress, Titia Claudia Nerina, invites you to _vespera_ tonight at the House of the Vestals. Do you freely agree to visit and respect our rules?"

"Ah," Ven said, and looked at his master in confusion. Master merely gave him a 'get on with it!' gesture and turned his back, providing no clue as to what this was all about. "Yes?" 

_As my master directs_ , which he nearly added from sheer instinct (not to mention habit!), probably didn't count as 'freely' – but Ven had never made a choice 'freely' in his entire life, and even this was contingent on his master's approval. Willow's assent was firmer but no less confused than Ven's.

Who in Olympus was Titia Claudia Nerina, anyway, and why on Earth would she issue an invitation directly to two slaves instead of asking their master to have them accompany him to... the House of the Vestals?! _Master Drusus_?!

While he attempted to comprehend this turn for the downright peculiar that the day had suddenly taken, the girl turned back to the master.

"The rules are quite simple," she said. "Merely that, ah, there is to be no fucking while you are guests of my mistress. There will be an email to confirm the details, and we will send a cycleshaw for you."

Ven did not think that he had ever heard the word 'fucking' spoken with such delicacy, but could not see whether the girl had blushed at pronouncing it, or not. He gave his master another quick glance, but he seemed to have been transformed into some sort of statue. He stepped to the desk and extracted one of Master's business cards from the holder, offering it to the girl who took it as if it might turn into an asp and bite.

"Thank you for your time, sir," the girl said, and Master turned, only to see her withdraw even without permission, nearly running into Moss who was just entering with a tray bearing a coffee-pot and cup. Moss took one look at Master's face, hastily shoved the tray into Willow's hands and beat a quick retreat, ostensibly showing the girl out, before the master exploded.

"Juno's cunt! Does Titia Claudia Nerina seriously expect me to bend you over and fuck you silly at a respectable meeting? Never mind that it's on sacred soil!"

Ven closed his eyes for a brief moment. All his hard work to ease Master's temper earlier seemed as if it had been for nothing. And why this invitation, out of the blue, and to a place that men weren't welcomed, as a rule – and a place that prized virginity surely had even _less_ reason to invite his master! It wasn't as if Phallusy was an unknown brand tucked away in some gods-forsaken province somewhere!

Willow put the tray down on the master's desk and stepped back, looking undecided whether he should kneel or not now.

Master dropped heavily into his chair, and closed his eyes. "You may return to whatever you were doing, Willow. Ven, two headache tablets and a glass of water. And tell Grumio I will have _cena_ early today."

"Yes, Master."

"Junio will wait on me during dinner, you eat your own, pet," Master said as Ven readied himself to serve or pour drinks, whatever Master wanted. 

"Yes, Master."

They retreated, heading back to the slave-quarters with a look of mutual incomprehension and confusion. Willow shrugged, and headed for the showers; whatever happened this evening, whatever the peculiar summons was about, he was not about to be found wanting in any way – if Master was embarrassed in any way because of him, the consequences would not be pleasant.

It was nice, and somewhat of a treat, for Ven to be able to eat with his fellow slaves, but the meal was over too quickly, and Ven was too distracted by trying to work out what this evening was all about to be able to join in properly with the flow of the conversation.

He returned to the _tablinum_ to be greeted with, "Livery this evening. And I want my best _pallium_ , the dark blue with silver embroidery. Look sharp, we are being collected in half-an-hour."

Ven blinked. "Yes, Master. Permission to..."

"Just go," Master replied wearily, and closed his laptop, probably more sharply than he had intended. "I will be in my room."

"Yes, Master."

The message was passed on with little fuss and Ven and Willow both headed to the dormitory, simply pulling on a clean livery tunic over the top of what they were wearing; the plain tunics wouldn't show and would serve to retain some heat.

Ven arranged Master's _pallium_ with little fuss (it was much easier than a toga!) and was sent for his secretary's satchel. Willow was likewise sent for his own _tabula_ , which Ven slipped into his satchel; it was lighter and smaller than Master's laptop, and he wouldn't be walking to their destination anyway.

Master was pacing the atrium when Ven returned. He slipped to his knees beside Willow.

"There will be a member of the _familia imperatoria_ present. You will address that person as you do any other free citizen, unless informed otherwise," Master told them.

There were too many pieces to this puzzle, and Ven did not have a hope of putting any of them together as Petrus appeared to inform them that there was a cycleshaw waiting for them outside. 

The cycleshaw was yet another surprise; the cyclists were female. Ven shrugged; if they belonged to the House of the Vestals, that only made sense!

The clouds from earlier had begun to dissipate, and there was a slightly chilly breeze now. Ven shivered, and couldn't quite help huddling closer to Master. He wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not as Willow leaned into him; Master's _pallium_ was a warmer outer garment than the tunics worn by either slave.

The ride passed in silence; neither slave dared to speak, and their master seemed disinclined to. There was a momentary confusion as they arranged themselves to enter the House of the Vestals (which looked very different at night to its appearance in daylight); Ven automatically deferred to Willow and went to Master's left, three paces behind him, only to be gently pushed across to stand behind Master on his right. 

"You're the senior," Ven muttered. 

"You're the secretary. You're senior outside the house," Willow murmured back.

They were hushed by Master, who led the way up the steps to the door, which had two women standing on guard outside – which made sense, if there was a member of the Imperial Family inside those doors. He looked every bit the confident Roman patrician. 

There were definitely times, Ven thought to himself, when he was rather glad that he was worthy of no more notice than a table or a chair or a sandal. He could stand behind his master and be ignored and not have to judge his words or make any sort of conversation. Thank all the gods for small mercies!

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
>  _puer_ – boy. The word refers to a male child, and was also used to refer to or address slaves  
>  _pusio_ – boy, lad, little boy. Related etymologically to puer, but often had a distinctly sexual or sexually demeaning connotation  
>  _prōlētāria_ – the feminine version of prōlētārius, a member of the lowest class of citizens  
>  _verna_ – a slave born in his master's home  
> Virilis Romanum – ‘manly Romans’, a conservative pressure group who want to return the Empire to its Golden Age somewhen in the 8th century when men were men and slaves were slaves (borrowed from Imperial_Dragon)  
>  _balnea_ – private bath-house  
>  _pallium_ – colourful outer garment worn by citizens, less formal and cumbersome than a toga, which could be worn in a variety of ways, depending on personal preference.  
>  _tablinum_ – the study or office of the master of the house  
>  _frigidarium_ – cold room of a Roman bath-house  
>  _caldarium_ – the hot steam room of a Roman bath-house  
>  _tepidarium_ – warm room of a Roman bath-house  
>  _concubīnus_ – male bed-slave  
>  _paenula_ – a cloak worn by the Romans, akin to the poncho (i.e. a large piece of material with a hole for the head to go through, hanging in ample folds round the body). This was originally worn only by slaves, soldiers and other people of low degree  
>  _cena_ – dinner  
>  _familia imperatoria_ – imperial family  
>  _tabula_ – tablet computer (in Classical Latin, the word refers to the wax writing tablet, I've repurposed and updated the meaning to reflect the modern setting – much as the word 'tablet' has changed its meaning in English!)


End file.
